2:45 am
Wide awake. For no good reason. At 3:30, I decide to get up, because what the hell, might as well get the day started. Except that when I get up to pee and brush my teeth, I realize that it’s cold and that coffee in the middle of the night sounds terrible. I get back into bed and will myself back to sleep.

5:00 am
Alarm goes off. Which would be fine except that I’m exhausted from being up from 2:45 until 4:00 am.

6:00 am
I’m having a bizarre dream in which I’m at a funeral (wedding?) also attended by Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar. All the women are wearing long dresses in a peasanty 1970s style (high necks, puffy sleeves, ugly prints) except for the few people I know from real life, who are wearing beautiful evening gowns in silk taffeta. I am wearing an ugly peasant dress, although I cannot imagine why. Two girls get up and sing “You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings,” badly (so it must be a wedding, yes?). And then the alarm goes off. Get up, shower,  start the arduous process of waking the kids. Henry has kicked ALL his covers off; Charlie says he’s tired. Just a normal Monday (except it’s Tuesday, isn’t it?).

Let’s be honest: I just want to go back to bed.

6:30 - 8:30
Charlie comes down for breakfast and proceeds to put his head on the table and sob for half an hour. He also insists that he’s not hungry and that he does not want that cereal. Eventually, we send him upstairs to get dressed; he cries more and then insists that he wants the cereal no he doesn’t! yes he does! And then he cries the whole way to school and the whole way home (because who can leave a sobbing kid at school?). I call the pediatrician and spend forever on hold while I simultaneously balance the phone on my shoulder, sort through the hundred and some emails that piled up yesterday when I was taking the day off (like a person with a NORMAL JOB), and try to convince Charlie that he might feel better if he would just stop crying. Eventually, I get an appointment to see the doctor. Appointment is at 11:30; I write 11:00 on my calendar because Charlie is laying on the floor right next to my chair crying and it’s a little bit distracting.

8:30 - 11:00
I work; Charlie stops crying, tells me his ear hurts, and then falls asleep in the big easy chair in my office. Kid is definitely sick.

11:00 - 12:45
Doctor. We’re early, because I’m too stoopid to write our appointment time down right. Charlie and I pass my phone back and forth in the waiting room; he plays a game and I check my email and try to make it look like I’m really working. Eventually, we see the doctor, who is incredibly sympathetic to my crazed OMG THE KID IS SICK AGAIN AND I CANNOT STAND IT ONE MORE DAY tirade. No ear infection but his throat doesn’t look good. I make her look at the rash on his leg, too, which isn’t a rash at all but a viral infection that we’re already treating, and I ask her if my baby is immune compromised because otherwise how does she explain all the sickness this winter I mean, HOW SICK CAN ONE KID BEEEEE?!? She assures me that it’s just bad luck and does not smack me, which is really a credit to her bedside manner. Thank god. She swabs him; fifteen minutes later she comes back and says that the strep test is negative but she wants to send a culture to the lab, just in case, since he’s had strep a couple of times this winter and I’m leaving town this week. God bless her. The nurse comes in and does the Old School swab, which involves TWO Qtips and a petri dish. Charlie is a trooper.

We stop at Saturn Grill for lunch and he eats an entire pizza. I have a bowl of terrible chicken corn chowder and a Barq’s root beer. It’s not really at all what I wanted for lunch.

1:30 - 2:50
Question: Can I jam a seven hour work day into an hour and 20 minutes? Answer: Hell, no.  But I do exchange emails with Laura Bennett, which is kind of cool. Okay, really cool. I love her.

3:00 
Carpool. Fortunately, the main street outside our development is being resurfaced, which means that traffic is waaayyy backed up and it’s a real scramble to get to school on time! Yay! Barely escape being late for pickup. Henry has had a good day; he has some unfinished school work, but he’s had a constructive talk with his teacher about his work and his handwriting and they have a whole system for helping him succeed at both and he’s upbeat and happy.

3:30
I make coffee because AWAKE AT 2:45 AM PEOPLE. Henry starts his homework, Charlie goes upstairs to play, I anticipate sitting down to watch Tivo’d Olympics in an hour.

Or not.

OMG I have no idea what time it is any more, all I know is that we’re out of wine.
Henry has been doing homework forever. Eventually, he starts to cry because he cannot remember which months have 30 days and which have 31. He asks me for help and when I tell him that I’m pretty sure August has 31 days, he has a gigantic tantrum, which includes some yelling and crying (mostly on Henry’s part, but let’s be honest, I’ve had a long damn day). I send him to his room — three times, I think? — and keep repeating, “When you’re ready to focus on your homework, you can come sit with me.” It takes four tries but eventually, we talk about the homework. Which consists of listing which months have 30 days and which have 31. I need a cocktail. Or some crack.

It’s all a blur from there.
Eventually Wade comes home and god bless him, he’s stopped at the liquor store. The kids have been fed, Charlie is in the bath, Henry is finally finishing his homework,  and we’re that much closer to bedtime. Wade and I eat, we watch some Tivo’d men’s downhill skiing, and we tuck everyone in at 7:30. Wade flips “The Office” on and laughs hysterically all the way through the episode where Jan and Michael host the dinner party from hell (you know, “Serenity by Jan” — that episode). At that point, my coffee really kicks in and I realize that I will never sleep again.

And that’s my day.

Tomorrow: More pretty things. Because another day of this will kill me.